We Are Not Dating! - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Call

Having sent his feedback to Songcheng, Jiang Zhiyu felt a weight lift off his mind.

Earlier, he had been starving himself for fear that a full stomach would make him drowsy; now, he finally had time to order takeout and boil some water. After clumsily applying his medicine, Jiang Zhiyu curled up lazily in bed. While waiting for sleep to come, he spent some time browsing his inbox.

A green checkmark had appeared next to the email he sent, indicating that Songcheng’s secretary had received it. He wondered if his other colleagues had submitted their drafts yet. Jiang Zhiyu’s translation skills were mature, and his output speed was usually among the best in the company. If it hadn’t been for the drunken mishap, he would have finished this morning, but he likely wasn’t much later than the others.

If Songcheng was working overtime right now, they might have already weighed the results. Holding his phone with nothing to do, Jiang Zhiyu indulged in a daydream, imagining the secretary opening the document and reading with satisfaction from the first line to the last.

And then?

They would surely contact him proactively, right? The client calling him in the middle of the night to congratulate him on being chosen as the project lead, urgently finalizing his schedule, and inviting him to the Songcheng building for further discussions…

The scenarios in Jiang Zhiyu’s head grew more exciting, but in reality, his phone remained silent.

“Why haven’t they called yet?” He lay prone on his pillow, a cooling fever patch still stuck to his forehead. He began searching for excuses: “There’s nothing wrong with the number on the resume. Is it possible Qi Shu’s phone bill ran out?”

After mulling it over in bed for a while, Jiang Zhiyu fell into a deep sleep.

The weekend passed peacefully. He found going anywhere too tiring, so he stayed home watching movies. The slight low fever had made him a bit dizzy, but he recovered quickly—the heat seemed to have washed away with the warm water in the bathtub. The bruising on his knees had turned a purplish hue; it looked severe but didn’t actually hurt much. Jiang Zhiyu recalled that he hadn’t been handled that much—was he really this fragile?

Regardless, he spent his holiday comfortably. Under the banner of “needing nutrition to recover from injuries,” he fed himself several meals a day. During this time, Tao Yibai invited him to gather at a nightclub again, but Jiang Zhiyu instinctively declined. Not long after a major stumble, and with the tooth mark on his thigh barely faded, he had a visceral “stress response” to the mention of alcohol.

Jiang Zhiyu couldn’t stay idle for long. He was highly career-oriented; five days of rest was a break, but over a week was torture. The weather had been clear and warmed up quickly. The shirt torn during his night of debauchery was a long-sleeve, but now pedestrians were in short sleeves, looking like it was already summer.

The office building was climate-controlled year-round, and everyone was in formal attire. Since he had no formal events today, Jiang Zhiyu wore a relaxed three-piece striped suit.

“Director Jiang, I heard you were on leave. Back to work so early?” a colleague greeted him.

Jiang Zhiyu sighed: “At home, I spent every day agonizing over takeout orders. At least here I can join everyone for a work meal.”

The colleague teased: “Then hurry up and find a partner to cook for you. If you can cook at home, you won’t be thinking about bento boxes.”

“I don’t have your luck, Brother Wan. Your wife is beautiful and virtuous,” Jiang Zhiyu replied with polite platitudes.

“You just don’t want to look for one,” the colleague patted his shoulder. He then casually asked: “By the way, regarding the competition for the Songcheng summit, have the final results come out?”

Jiang Zhiyu said: “I haven’t received word. Have you heard any rumors? It should be about time they contacted us.”

“The weekend just ended; they probably only started moving today,” the colleague said. “Haven’t you asked anyone to look into it?”

Jiang Zhiyu shook his head with a casual posture. “There’s no need to use up social capital for something like this. Unless I knew someone like Qi Shu who can make the final call, it’s just a matter of getting the result sooner or later.”

They walked into the Major Accounts department together. His subordinates saw him and greeted him one after another.

“Xu Yihan, are you going to the New International Exhibition Center for simultaneous interpretation later?” Jiang Zhiyu asked, calling him out.

Xu Yihan had only recently passed his probation. Surprised that his superior remembered his schedule, he hurriedly explained the details. “I’m going to confirm the venue and equipment at noon. There’s also a business dinner after the meeting that I have to accompany.”

This kind of accompaniment required being a middleman for communication. Even if one sat at the dinner table, their mind was focused on the exchange; they’d barely get two bites of food.

Jiang Zhiyu reminded him: “Oh, go to the supermarket and buy some bread to keep on hand. I’ll go with you this afternoon.”

Simultaneous interpretation is a test of nerves. Having just entered the industry, Xu Yihan was under a lot of pressure. Knowing Jiang Zhiyu would be on-site to keep an eye on things felt like a shot of reassurance. He immediately started buttering him up by offering to order milk tea.

“I’ve been sticking to plain water lately.” Jiang Zhiyu’s voice had been raspy for two or three days and had only just recovered its clarity.

Xu Yihan went to the pantry to pour a cup of water. Someone followed closely behind him, looking toward Jiang Zhiyu as they entered.

“Xiao Jiang, I heard you’re running to the Exhibition Center this afternoon too?” the person said. “Afraid the rookie in your family will cause trouble?”

Jiang Zhiyu took the ceramic cup and said: “With Teacher Xiao around, of course I’m confident the scene will be held down. I’ve just been too bored at home lately and wanted a chance to get out and walk.”

Simultaneous interpretation for a standard meeting requires at least two people. Today, it was Xu Yihan and Xiao Hui collaborating. The latter was the manager of the neighboring interpretation department; with him overseeing things, nothing could really go wrong.

Xiao Hui teased: “I thought it was because Songcheng hadn’t called and you were getting anxious.”

They were both on the candidate list and were technically competitors. This kind of selection was common, and Jiang Zhiyu wouldn’t hold a grudge over it. He handled a few remarks with ease and arrived at the exhibition hall early in the afternoon. Many cars were already parked at the entrance.

Jiang Zhiyu checked the materials. It was a financial forum hosted by a professional university in collaboration with a relevant newspaper, leaning more toward academic exchange. As soon as the two colleagues got out of the car, they were busy coordinating outside. Jiang Zhiyu walked into the interpretation booth and methodically helped test the equipment.

After a while, the colleagues arrived. Jiang Zhiyu stopped Xu Yihan and gave him a few more key points. “Don’t be too nervous,” Xiao Hui said, adopting the air of a senior. “If you’re so scared your brain goes blank, the result will be worse.”

With half an hour left until the start, the interpreters carefully flipped through their prepared materials. Jiang Zhiyu sat next to Xu Yihan, observing the situation in the hall. The invited guests came from various fields and the threshold seemed high; he recognized several companies that were famous in the industry. Despite this, they couldn’t get seats in the front and were arranged in the middle section.

Jiang Zhiyu pondered and asked: “By the way, where is your dinner being held?”

“The UBS Hotel,” Xu Yihan replied.

Meanwhile, Qi Shu took a seat in the front row of the venue. He turned his head and whispered to his secretary: “They’re going to eat at the UBS tonight? I’m not going. Have them make other arrangements.”

Qi Shu had clearly been in a bad mood these past few days, always wearing a cold face. The secretary had reflected on this many times but could never figure out which “ancestor” had offended the boss. At this moment, she didn’t want to court disaster. Hearing that Qi Shu wanted to skip out, she immediately indicated she would arrange it.

The forum was about to start. Around them, the organizers were handing out headphones to overseas guests, adjusting the receiving channels for real-time interpretation. Qi Shu watched listlessly for a while, then told the secretary to help him get one as well.

“What?” The secretary didn’t understand his intention.

Qi Shu said: “They said just now they hired people from Puyin.”

The secretary felt guilty: “So that’s it. I didn’t notice, but you caught it with just one ear!”

Qi Shu didn’t explain much: “Just a coincidence. I’ll listen to the quality.”

Surprised that Qi Shu was so thorough, the secretary agreed and asked the host for two pairs of headphones. When the host began to speak, a man’s voice came through the headphones. It was warm and steady, the descriptions precise and easy to understand.

The secretary listened for a while and introduced him to Qi Shu: “This should be Xiao Hui. His translations are good, and his level is very stable.”

Qi Shu gave a faint hum. The secretary speculated: “We haven’t contacted Jiang Zhiyu yet. Since it hasn’t been finalized externally, it’s not too late to change people.” She felt Qi Shu’s attitude was vague, but Xiao Hui was indeed performing well. Sometimes a sudden, accidental opportunity to perform can change an entire trajectory.

Half an hour later, the interpretation staff did a fixed rotation. The voice became noticeably more youthful. However, the person had a solid foundation and was currently managing well. Qi Shu listened for a while and cast a quiet glance toward the interpretation booth. The venue was too large and the distance too far; he couldn’t see how many people were actually inside.

Qi Shu soon withdrew his gaze. The person on stage reached an emotional point and began to speak off-script, eloquently expressing the latest viewpoints. The rhythm was suddenly disrupted; the translator’s voice tightened as they struggled to convey the information to the audience.

Next, the speaker used an extremely obscure professional term. The interpreter clearly stumbled and then tried hard to continue. They misunderstood the meaning, Qi Shu thought. But it’s impossible for this kind of translation to be 100% accurate; expressing 70-80% of the general meaning is usually sufficient.

The translator also seemed to realize there was a slip of the tongue and grew anxious, wanting to go back and add a patch, but couldn’t find a gap to insert it. As a result, they became increasingly flustered. When another difficult sentence appeared, there was a silence of about two seconds from the translator.

“Xiao Hui should be stepping in to save the day now,” the secretary whispered.

Almost at the same time she made her guess, a smooth and pleasant voice entered everyone’s ears. Only, this tone didn’t belong to Xiao Hui.

“Jiang Zhiyu?” the secretary said in surprise. She was delighted and told Qi Shu: “I’ve heard him live; I could recognize him immediately this time.”

Jiang Zhiyu was clearly saving the situation. This part was entirely improvised, but it was as if he had been prepared all along; he managed to account for both emotion and terminology. He could also integrate many cutting-edge concepts and express them to the audience in his own way. The fact that someone so young held a position at Puyin wasn’t just because he had a face that turned heads.

Afterward, the staff switched back to Xiao Hui and Xu Yihan, finishing steadily, but the secretary never mentioned changing people again.

After the session ended, the secretary went to socialize with peers and wanted to ask if Qi Shu wanted to take a car back first. However, as soon as she turned her head, the space beside her was empty. Where did Qi Shu go?

In the venue’s interpretation booth, the two colleagues were about to transfer to the hotel and were taking a short rest. Hearing Xiao Hui’s sigh, Xu Yihan’s mood became even more panicked, and he took sips of mineral water from time to time. Realizing Jiang Zhiyu was about to speak, he took the lead in admitting his fault with a bitter face.

“I’m sorry, I made so many mistakes and forced you to fix things.”

Jiang Zhiyu didn’t criticize him, though: “It’s normal for accidents to happen. Aside from that moment where you crumbled a bit, you were good everywhere else.”

Xu Yihan froze, then heard Jiang Zhiyu continue. “Even if I weren’t here today, Teacher Xiao could have covered for you. Don’t look like you’re about to be fired; it’s fine as long as everything was okay on-site.” Analyzing the problem right now was useless; he signaled for the other to adjust quickly. “Don’t be depressed now. What will the client think if they see you? Remember to do a good job tonight,” Jiang Zhiyu instructed.

Xu Yihan was a newcomer and had heard how popular Jiang Zhiyu was at the company, but because they had little overlap, it hadn’t felt real. Now he was completely won over. Encouraged, he said: “Okay, I won’t let you down.”

They then left the small room. The organizers hadn’t left for the hotel yet, so Jiang Zhiyu followed them to a corridor to get some air.

“That guy is so handsome. Do fund managers these days have to compete on looks too?” Xu Yihan commented on a guest not far away.

Xiao Hui said: “Impossible. Fund managers usually look more weathered; they look safer that way. Even my mom is afraid of being cheated out of her money by a handsome guy.”

Jiang Zhiyu peeked out: “Who are you talking about? Let me debunk it.”

Xu Yihan pointed in a direction. Jiang Zhiyu looked where he was pointing and held his breath in disbelief. Is there only one handsome guy left in the world? Why would Alfred be here!

And this man had changed into a different suit today. The aura around him was completely different from before—it magnified his sense of arrogance while making him look ascetic and refined.

Jiang Zhiyu’s mind went blank; he didn’t have time to restrain his gaze. On the other side, Qi Shu felt someone staring. Their gazes suddenly tangled in mid-air. Jiang Zhiyu instinctively looked down, but then felt that was a sign of a guilty conscience, so he stubbornly raised his head back up.

“Why are you guys making eyes at each other? Do you know him?” Xiao Hui noticed his hesitation.

Xu Yihan was a real “toady.” Seeing the man was so young, he figured his status might not be that unattainable, so he chose to directly play matchmaker for his boss. “Brother, which company are you with? You look very unfamiliar,” Xu Yihan took the initiative to strike up a conversation with very clumsy technique.

Jiang Zhiyu hadn’t wanted to fire him for the earlier mistake, but now he deeply regretted it—why hadn’t he buried the man alive when they passed the flower beds?

Beckoned by Xu Yihan, Qi Shu whispered a few words to those around him and strode over. As soon as Jiang Zhiyu saw that face, he thought of the wrong phone number he had left. He hasn’t realized it, right? he thought uneasily. Besides, why would the man call him for no reason? Since they weren’t on “checking-in” terms, his little trick couldn’t possibly be discovered.

Thinking of this, Jiang Zhiyu toughened up and introduced him to his colleagues. “He’s my friend, but not in the industry,” Jiang Zhiyu took control of the conversation. He then looked at Qi Shu: “Alfred, what a coincidence. What are you doing here?”

Qi Shu remembered that “886” and his attitude was a bit biting: “Doing odd jobs.”

Unfortunately, Jiang Zhiyu wasn’t on the same wavelength and didn’t hear the sarcasm. He gave an “Oh” of sudden realization.

Seeing that Qi Shu was Jiang Zhiyu’s friend, Xu Yihan radiated sunshine. “Where are you going later?” he asked. “Are you hungry at this hour? I have an extra bread roll here.” As he spoke, he opened his bag and, without taking no for an answer, stuffed a red bean cheese bun into Qi Shu’s hand.

Qi Shu looked down at the bread—so out of place in these surroundings—and coldly wanted to give it back. But Xu Yihan spoke first: “I’m hungry too. Let’s go eat on the benches outside. We have to rush to the next event soon.”

The sun was setting, and the temperature was no longer so hot. There was a long row of benches by the trees for resting and chatting. Xiao Hui ate soda crackers while checking unread messages, complaining about why Songcheng hadn’t replied yet. For this big contract, he weighed his ability and seniority and felt he was bound to get it. But dragging it to Monday without word made him a bit uncertain.

“Have you received it?” he asked Jiang Zhiyu.

“Um, no,” Jiang Zhiyu said. “Maybe the secretary had other things to deal with first today.”

Xiao Hui said: “You must have many alumni there. Didn’t you ask around?”

Jiang Zhiyu shook his head and smiled gently: “You must know people inside too?”

Seeing Jiang Zhiyu’s flat reaction—as if he didn’t care about the result—made his own anxiety stand out. Xiao Hui felt a secret sense of frustration. “Oh, I have a bit of a connection with Qi Shu,” he said, intentionally stirring the pot. “I’ve assisted him with consecutive interpretation before.”

After saying this, he felt Alfred glance at him. After being in the circle for so many years, who doesn’t know how to brag a little? And Xiao Hui had indeed attended a summit where Qi Shu was an invited expert. Even if Qi Shu didn’t know him, he had been in indirect contact; what was wrong with saying they had “a bit of a connection”?

Mixing in the information he knew, Xiao Hui continued slowly. “Qi Shu is very picky about people. Other executives are easier to talk to; maybe they’ll pick someone just because they like their look. You can win people over with looks and connections, but for him, you need actual skill. I’m not sure what he’s thinking either.”

Jiang Zhiyu suspected the phrase “win people over with looks” was aimed at him, but he didn’t mind. After all, he had the confidence to prove his ability; only true “vases” would be stung by such questioning.

However, just as he was about to respond, the man beside him spoke first. “Is that so? Qi Shu’s style isn’t a secret in the industry. How deep is your connection with him?”

Xiao Hui wanted to intimidate Jiang Zhiyu: “Well, we definitely have some private contact.”

Who knew this man wouldn’t be so easy to handle? He added: “Qi Shu doesn’t seem to have many friends.”

“Eh, he doesn’t even look for women.” Xiao Hui shared some hearsay gossip to save face. “Don’t get the wrong idea—he doesn’t look for men either. He’s basically ‘at peace with the world’ (ascetic).”

Xu Yihan was shocked: “What? Is he a Buddhist?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Xiao Hui said. “Just… he doesn’t ‘get wild.’ He doesn’t have that mind for it.” He spoke quite subtly.

Xu Yihan did some reading comprehension: “Holy crap, is he impotent?”

Qi Shu: ? Jiang Zhiyu: ?

Both looked at Xu Yihan simultaneously, though their internal thoughts were vastly different. One thought it was absurd; the other thought, did I guess right the first time?!

But thinking about it privately is one thing; discussing it aloud is another. Jiang Zhiyu didn’t care about other departments, but his own subordinate couldn’t be gossiping like this. He interrupted: “Don’t discuss people’s privacy behind their backs. You’re not his attending physician, and you can’t help him. Why are you focusing on this?”

“Everyone has troubles. President Qi must not be living a very ‘pleasant’ life,” Xu Yihan said with great sympathy.

Jiang Zhiyu shut him up: “Maybe he gets a ‘high’ from counting money. We’ve evolved from animals into humans; maybe he really doesn’t care for those primitive stimuli.”

“Mm-hmm.” Xu Yihan took the lesson, then noticed Alfred’s expression was off. “Hey, why are you looking at me? Not enough bread? Want another one?” he asked, confused.

Qi Shu moved his eyes back and said: “No need. I’m full.” He sent a message to his secretary, and then heard Xiao Hui turn the topic back to Jiang Zhiyu.

“The first time Xiao Jiang did simultaneous interpretation, his face was so pale that President Zhou almost replaced him,” Xiao Hui said. “Just like Little Xu today.”

“Director Jiang used to be scared too?” Xu Yihan asked.

“I was. My hands were shaking back then,” Jiang Zhiyu said. “After all, I switched careers and had no foundation.”

Xiao Hui said: “When he first came back from abroad, he even had an accent when speaking Chinese. It seems he still has a bit of one.”

Xu Yihan was surprised: “The Director’s Mandarin is very standard. I didn’t hear it.”

“I was raised by my grandmother when I was a kid. She spoke her local dialect, so I picked up a bit of it,” Jiang Zhiyu said. “Later I went to France with my dad, and there wasn’t a great Chinese environment.” After explaining, he asked: “Can you hear it now?”

Before the others could answer, Jiang Zhiyu received a call from an unknown number. He didn’t avoid everyone. After answering, Songcheng’s secretary explained her intent: inviting him for an interview whenever he was free. The sound of the call leaked out. After he hung up, Xu Yihan immediately said congratulations. Xiao Hui followed with congratulations and then finished his crackers in two or three bites.

Earlier he had been dropping conversation starters one after another, but now he couldn’t sit still for a second, urging Xu Yihan to pack up immediately. Xu Yihan hurriedly swallowed his bread, and the two went to meet the organizers. Jiang Zhiyu remained in place, still without an answer to his question.

He could only look at Qi Shu: “Can you hear an accent?”

Qi Shu asked back: “From an objective standpoint, you’re already a Director. If that were really the case, wouldn’t the clients have noticed?”

“That’s true.” Jiang Zhiyu had a realization. He crossed his arms and said cautiously: “Maybe it’s just that my articulation is a bit off. What about from a subjective standpoint?”

Qi Shu then looked at him, saw Jiang Zhiyu purse his lips, and remembered that fresh grapefruit scent. What is he spaceing out for? Qi Shu thought his associative ability was a bit too rich. He confirmed casually: “Let me be purely subjective?”

“There’s only you left now. Please analyze from all aspects,” Jiang Zhiyu commanded.

“Usually I can’t hear it. Your articulation is very clear, and your syllables have no problem.” As he spoke, Qi Shu met his eyes. He couldn’t resist the suppressed desire to be wicked: “However, I can tell. You likely grew up in the Wu-speaking region.”

“You heard the voice message from my grandmother,” Jiang Zhiyu said.

The worries that had been lingering for days vanished. Qi Shu curled the corners of his mouth and said triumphantly: “Earlier than that. Because that night, the sounds you made were a bit ‘dia’ (sweet/coquettish).”

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